hip him with the rest of my string to
Nashville. The second night we're there, here comes Jack Dillon to the
stall with a paper bag in his hand.

"'You didn't get the colt?' I says to him.

"'No,' he says. 'I didn't get anything . . . I lost something.'

"'What?' I says.

"'Never mind what,' he says. 'Here, put this bag of sugar where I can
get at it. She told me to feed him two lumps a day.'

"After that he comes every evenin' 'n' gives the colt sugar, but he's
poor company. He just stands lookin' at the colt. Half the time he
don't hear what I say to him.

"The colt wins the Nashville Derby, 'n' then I ships him to Loueyville
for the Kentucky. We want him to win _that_ more'n all the rest, but
as luck goes, he ketches cold shippin', 'n' he can't start.

"Miss Goodloe comes over to Loueyville one mawnin' to see him. She
gets through huggin' him after while, 'n' sets down in a chair by the
stall door.

"'Now, start at the beginning and tell me everything,' she says.

"So I tells her every move the colt makes since I has him.

"'How did he happen to catch cold?' she asks.

"'Constitution undermined,' I says.

"'Oh! How dreadful!' she says. 'What caused it?'

"'Sugar,' I says, never crackin' a smile.

"She flushes up, 'n' I see she knows what I mean, but she don't ask no
more questions. Before she leaves, Miss Goodloe tells me she'll come
to Cincinnati if the colt's well enough to start in the Latonia Derby.

"I ships to Cincinnati. About noon derby day I'm watchin' the swipes
workin' on the colt. He's favorite fur the Latonia 'n' there's mebby a
hundred boobs in front of the stall rubberin' at him.

"'Please let dis lady pass,' I hears some one say, 'n' here comes Liza
helpin' Miss Goodloe through the crowd. When Liza sees me I ducks 'n'
holds up my arm like I'm dodgin' somethin'. She grins till her mouth
looks like a tombstone factory.

"'I clean fohgot to bring dat pokah wid me,' she says. 'Hyar you is,
Miss Sally.'

"I don't hardly know Miss Goodloe. There's nothin' like race day to
get a dame goin'. Her eyes are shinin' 'n' her cheeks are pink, 'n'
she don't look more'n sixteen.

"'Why, Boy-baby,' she says to the colt, 'you've grown to be such a
wonderful person I can't believe it's you!' The colt knows it's race
day 'n' he don't pay much attention to her. 'Oh, Boy-baby!' says Miss
Goodloe, 'I'm afraid you've had your head turned . . . you don't even
notice your own mammy!'